


Descent

by Violetin53



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Domestic Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Same School AU, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-02 19:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14551299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetin53/pseuds/Violetin53
Summary: Kokichi Ouma never liked people much.





	1. Chapter 1

Six in the morning, and the alarm blared violently. Lavender eyes shot open, the whites stained a pale red. Ouma lifted his heavy head from the pillow and pressed for the noise to stop. He sighed as he dragged himself out of bed, hair dishevelled. He shuffled into the bathroom, briefly staring into the mirror, a pathetic sight looking back at him. He turned away from the offensive view, starting the shower. Undressing swiftly, he entered the shower and ferociously scrubbed himself, the ivory skin becoming irritated.

When he was finished, he dried himself off and put on his school uniform. He cautiously went downstairs, careful to avoid making too much noise and waking up his mother. After making sure no one was there, he slunk into the kitchen and opened up the fridge. It was empty. Instead, he decided to swipe some change from the kitchen counter. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he slipped on his shoes and left the oppressive atmosphere of the house.

It was a dreary morning, and still quite dark outside. The air was bitter cold. Ouma wondered if it would rain. He didn’t really care about that, so he didn’t mind that he was without an umbrella. He walked at a leisurely pace. School didn’t start for another two hours, the walk being only half an hour or so. He often took a longer detour, enjoying what sights he could. It wasn’t much, as it was only narrow, urban roads that barely changed from one to the next, but it was something. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear when the wind blew harsher. 

Once he’d wondered around the neighbourhood for a significant amount of time, he circled back around and headed for school.

When he walked into class, he sat in the seat nearest to the back, next to the window. It was easier to daydream that way. He got out his pencil case and began to twirl a pencil that he took out of it. He chewed on the end of it softly, watching as students filtered into the classroom.

“Alright class, I’m going to ask you to prepare a report on a topic of your choosing.”

Ouma rolled his eyes, dropping his head onto his desk. He hated doing shit like this, there was barely anything he was interested in, let alone enough to make a report about. Why couldn’t he just be given a topic? Could he fake a panic attack to get himself out of it? Maybe he could do something gross to get a reaction. He sat up straight, tapping his cheek in contemplation.

When he got to the library, he decided to look for something disturbing. Maybe he could talk about true crime or something. He remembered there being a particularly gory book, one he didn’t understand why they had at a school. _The guide to crime scenes_ , was it? He approached the non-fiction section, lightly running his fingers along the spines of the books as he searched. He wasn’t having much luck, however. There seemed to be a space where he remembered the book sitting. Maybe someone had borrowed it?

“Are you looking for this?” A quiet voice behind him asked.

He whipped his head around to come face to face with a taller boy. He had a slender frame, and a dark hat which covered the majority of his pale face. Shuichi Saihara, someone Ouma hadn’t talked to, but recognised him from some of his classes. He seemed to keep to himself, as did Ouma. The shorter boy looked down at Saihara’s hand, and sure enough he was holding the book he’d been looking for.

“Oh… um… yes… are you reading it right now?”

Saihara gave a small smile before opening it. He flipped through the pages with wiry fingers. “I always like to look at it… it’s pretty fascinating, don’t you think?”

“Yeah… I was gonna write a report on it.”

Even under his hat, Ouma could see Saihara’s eyes widen slightly. His voice grew a little in volume as he stepped towards him. “I did something similar! A-are you going to write about the bodies, or the method of murder?”

He felt a hostile aura from the other boy. He figured he should put on a cutesy façade, just in case Saihara turned out to be crazy. Ouma drew his eyebrows up, his eyes watering. “U-um… I don’t know yet. I just figured it’d be an interesting topic...”

Saihara pursed his lips and closed the book, handing it to Ouma. “I see… well it certainly is.”

“Y-yeah…” They stood silently, Ouma looking down at his shoes. 

“I’ve always seen you around… do you not have any friends? You’re always alone.”

Ouma blinked at the question, glancing back up at Saihara. He dropped the act. “Well, I could say the same for you.”

The taller boy tugged the brim of his hat, covering his eyes further as he averted them. “…I don’t like people too much, honestly…”

“Yeah… same here.” Ouma was dubious, though. If he didn’t like people, why did he go out of his way to strike up a conversation with him? He guessed even people like Saihara got lonely.

“Hey… did you want to maybe… g-get lunch… or something?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh… with you?”

Saihara shuffled around before he answered, “Y-yeah… we have some things in common, I think…”

Ouma wanted to sigh at that. Was he really similar to Saihara? He’d always given him a weird vibe, like there was a reason he was always alone. But… it couldn’t hurt to have some company. He shrugged, “Sure. We can do that.”

“Alright! Um… do you want to go now?”

“Huh? I have class.”

“But you’re not actually in class right now, right? Maybe I could help you with your report…”

“Um…” He paused for a second. He hadn’t had breakfast, so he should eat something. “Okay, let’s go.”

Ouma managed to purchase a small sandwich. He sat down on a bench outside with Saihara. The other boy brought a lunchbox full of food. They sat eating in silence for a while, before Saihara piped up.

“So… do you like things like crime… murder?”

He grinned slightly. “Do I like murder?”

Saihara laughed nervously. “N-not in that way… just, y’know… don’t you find it fascinating?”

“Yeah. It’s all part of that morbid curiosity thing, right?” He could’ve sworn he saw Saihara’s cheeks flush slightly, but it was hard to see his face between him pulling his hat down and turning away every few seconds.

“Of course… have you heard of Danganronpa?”

“Danganronpa? You mean that reality show?”

Saihara faced forward and frowned, putting down his food. “Well… it’s more than a reality show, it’s a whole franchise.”

“Oh… I didn’t know.”

“Clearly. You should do some more research.” 

Ouma scoffed. He didn’t appreciate the condescending tone. “I’m guessing you’re a big fanboy, huh?”

“You could say that… but if you like things like true crime, I definitely recommend it.”

“Meh… seems kinda trashy to me.”

“Well, someone like you would think that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t be offended, I just mean…” He trailed off as he packed his lunchbox back into his bag, chewing on his lip. “You need to experience it properly. With someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

“So, you’re a Danganronpa expert?”

“Definitely. I’ve seen every season, played all the games… I can show you why it’s such a brilliant franchise.” Ouma heard his breathing pick up slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his leg start shaking.

He brought his knees together, inching away from Saihara the tiniest bit. “Well… I don’t really have a way to watch it…”

“You could watch it at my house! I have t—” The bell rung, cutting him off. Ouma was relieved.

He stood up from the bench. “Looks like we have class.”

Saihara’s eyes followed him. “Y-yeah… aren’t we in gym together?”

“We are? I didn’t even notice.” That was a lie. It was hard not to notice Saihara, who never participated in any of the activities, instead choosing to play with his phone.

“Yeah, so we should stick together… if you want…” Saihara stood up next, picking up his school bag.

Ouma nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

They changed into their gym clothes in the locker room. Ouma watched as Saihara took off his hat and undressed next to him. He couldn’t help but stare a little. The boy really was pretty under that hat. He had a cute cowlick that stuck up from his raven hair. His eyes were a gorgeous mix of green and grey complimented by an almond shape and thick lashes. Ouma attempted to appear less obvious by taking off his clothes as he looked, but it was hard to not watch. The boy’s body was nice as well. Willowy and smooth, he wanted to ghost his fingers across Saihara’s soft stomach and hear him whine… 

There it was again. That hypersexuality that clouded all of his judgements. It was why he didn’t talk to boys much. He quickly changed into his gym clothes, hoping his boner wasn’t too obvious to Saihara, who was barely even paying attention to him.

When they entered the gym, they stood together in the crowd of students. A few classes joined together for their gym sessions, making it so there were quite a few students Ouma didn’t know. He moved closer to Saihara as he kept his eyes on the floor.

The teacher decided they’d play basketball today. As the students picked teams, Saihara led Ouma to the corner of the gym. They both sat on the floor, watching as the crowd dispersed. He turned to Saihara, chewing on his lip softly.

“Won’t we get in trouble for sitting out?”

Saihara shook his head. “No, they usually don’t notice.”

“Oh… okay…” Ouma glanced over at Saihara as he scrolled through his phone, his eyes moving rapidly as he read. It seemed to be some kind of Danganronpa forum, evidenced by the icon of the black and white bear. He decided to watch the other students play since Saihara was ignoring him.

He saw a group of boys playing basketball. One stood out to him, however. A boy that was tall and brawny, his arms showing through the sleeves of his t-shirt. He had a cocky grin on his face as he played, his teeth gleaming. Ouma stared as the boy became sweatier as the game went on. His spiked purple hair stuck to his face as he ran around the court. He licked his lips unconsciously before hearing Saihara chuckle. He was sort of thankful to be brought out of his own thoughts before they became filthy.

Saihara’s tone was mocking. “Do you like looking at Momota-kun?”

Ouma shrugged. “Yeah… I guess I do. Do you know him?”

The other boy grimaced. “Unfortunately. Kaito Momota is someone you don’t want to know, really…”

“Is he an asshole?”

“Asshole is an understatement.” Saihara mumbled, eyes fixated on his screen.

“Huh…” Ouma turned back to look at Momota, who was facing his direction, chugging from a water bottle. He watched as his throat bobbed with the action. He was drenched in sweat. Once he’d stopped drinking, he looked directly at Ouma. His eyes bore into him, his jaw clenched. Ouma softly drew in a breath when Momota continued to stare. The shorter boy glared back at him with just as much intensity before Momota was pulled into a conversation with another boy.

“I don’t encourage that. You don’t want him targeting you…”

“You’re right.” Another lie. He definitely wanted Momota to target him.

Saihara held out his hand. “Can I see your phone?”

“Hm? Why?”

“Well, I f-figured we could take each other’s numbers…”

“I leave my phone at home.”

“Why don’t you bring it with you?”

Ouma shrugged. “I never really need it.”

“What if something happens… and you need to call the police?” Saihara questioned.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Uh… okay. Well, here’s my number…” He handed Ouma a scrap of paper he’d scribbled digits on.

Ouma took it from him, looking down at the paper before putting it into his pocket. “Your handwriting is atrocious.” He teased.

Saihara laughed weakly. “So I’ve been told…”

When Ouma reached his house that day, he snuck inside, making as little noise as possible. He kicked his shoes off quickly and started to tiptoe up the stairs when he heard his mother’s voice.

“Kokichi.” Her tone was commanding.

He paused, closing his eyes as he responded. “Yes?”

Suddenly, her voice softened. “How was your day, sweetie?”

He started walking again at a slower pace. “It was fine… I’m pretty tired though, so I’m gonna sleep.”

“You aren’t hungry…?”

“No, I had a big lunch.”

She sighed, sounding disappointed. “Alright…”

When Ouma got upstairs, he sprinted for his room and slammed the door shut. He barricaded it with a chair he had along with some boxes stacked on top of it. Once he felt secure, he flopped onto the bed, pulling his phone out of his bedside drawer. He entered Saihara’s number and texted him.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Ouma-kun?”

“Yep.”

“How are you doing?”

He didn’t feel like answering that. Instead, he dropped the phone into his drawer, swapping it for some hand lotion. He unbuckled his belt as he wondered who he would fantasise about… Saihara, or Momota?

Maybe both. He sighed as he laid back and gripped himself, excited to release the wound-up tension.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter - and probably the rest of the story - will contain mentions of domestic/child abuse.

Ouma eventually tired himself out that night, face flushed and panting. He woke up to his alarm the next morning and got ready for school. He figured he should probably bring his phone with him. Before leaving, he checked the fridge. Empty again. He sighed and started to rummage through his mother’s bag, pulling out her purse. He stole some cash before heading out of the door. He checked his texts as he wondered around the neighbourhood. He’d never responded to Saihara’s text, yet he’d received a few from him last night. Saihara had sent him some links, things like _“Which Danganronpa Character Are You?"_ and, _“The Tragic Beauty of The Danganronpa Series”_. He sighed. Saihara sure was into this Danganronpa shit… He decided to text him.

“Hey, I’m on my way to school.” He remembered how ridiculously early he left the house every morning and rolled his eyes. Of course Saihara wouldn’t be up at this time.

He put his phone into his pocket and walked to the convenience store that was a while away from his house. He’d have to buy some groceries, God knows his mother wouldn’t do it anytime soon. He picked up some basic supplies and lunch for that day. By the time he’d finished, it was time for him to start walking to school. When he finally neared the entrance, he saw Saihara waiting by the school gate. The taller boy lifted his head up when he spotted Ouma and nodded with a slight smile.

“Good morning, Ouma-kun.”

Ouma smiled back. “Yeah… morning.”

“Did you look at the links I sent you?”

He fidgeted with his bag strap as he answered. “Oh… no, not yet. I was really tired when I got home so I just kind of fell asleep.”

Saihara let out a short breath. “Fair enough.” He turned away from Ouma and began to walk into school with the other boy following him. “We have gym again today…”

“Yeah. Are you in any of my other classes this week?”

Saihara pulled the brim of his hat down. “Art, I think.”

“Oh, right.”

“Are… we having lunch together again?”

“Sure…”

He nodded towards the bag of groceries. “Looks like you brought a lot of food.”

“Huh? Oh. No…” Ouma looked down at the bag, his lips pursed.

Saihara waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I won’t pry.”

“Thanks, Saihara-chan.”

The taller boy cocked his head and quirked the corner of his lip. “Saihara-chan? That’s pretty cute.”

“T-thanks…”

“It suits you.”

“Hm?”

He laughed, voice breathy as he leaned against the wall. “You just have that whole… cute… victim thing going for you.” His grey eyes roamed over Ouma’s body.

The smaller boy’s eyes widened. “Victim…?” 

“Mhm.” He put a hand to his chin. “Or actually…”

“That’s… weird.” He couldn’t say that wasn’t what he was going for. He would always use his looks to his advantage. But, there was something about the way Saihara spoke…

“It is? I didn’t think so… sorry. It was meant to be a compliment. It’s… attractive.”

The bell rung. Ouma started to rush toward his first class. “I’ll see you at lunch, Saihara-chan.”

“Y-yeah… you too.” He gave a small wave, watching Ouma leave.

In his first class, Ouma sat at the back as usual. He actually had something to do in class this time. Bringing his phone was a good idea. He checked his social media, his phone hidden under his desk. It was something he rarely used, not really finding a need to keep in touch with anyone. He was invisible to most people. He decided to have a go at the quiz Saihara sent him out of boredom. He read over the questions as he chewed some bubble gum, testing how big he could blow the bubbles. A lot of them seemed pretty random, such as _“What is your favourite food?”_ He picked curry, since cherries weren’t an option. _“Are you a funny person?”_ Ouma sighed at that one. He wished. As much as he admired comedians, there was nothing remotely funny about a bland waste of space like him. Maybe the funny part was meant to be his existence. 

After answering all of the questions, it turned out he was some kind of Super High School Level Psychologist, which meant nothing to him. He stuck his now gross wad of gum under the desk. It was probably better to try to focus on class until lunch. He rested his chin on his palm as he listened to the teacher talk.

When he left the classroom, Saihara was waiting for him.

“Shall we go eat at the bench outside again?”

Ouma shrugged, walking towards the courtyard. “Sure… if it’s not too cold or anything.”

“I’ll give you my blazer if it is, okay?”

The shorter boy giggled as he twirled some of his hair. “Wow… such a gentleman.”

They sat down and began eating. Ouma stared straight ahead at the courtyard. It was a bit breezy, but not terribly cold. At least he had a decent lunch today.

“Oh, I did that quiz thingy.”

“Really? Who did you get?”

“Umm… a Psychologist?”

Saihara beamed at him. “I figured you’d get him! You guys are similar.”

“How are we similar?”

“Well… he’s kind of quiet and cynical. A little bit of a smartass. He’s one of my favourites.”

“You’re being kind of presumptuous. You just met me, Saihara-chan.”

“See? That’s you being cynical.”

Ouma furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s not the definition of cynical.”

“And that’s you being a smartass.”

“No, it’s—Whatever. So, do I die?”

“Yeah, but… it’s an execution. Meaning you were the blackened.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t think so… because he’s so small and cute… but he committed a brutal murder!” Saihara gushed, his eyes widening slightly. “He slices another boy up with an axe, then he puts his body parts through a s-shredder… there was blood everywhere! He managed to fit everything but his h-head in, so he ended up leaving it on the floor. The students freaked out when th—”

“Wait. How did he not get found out? That sounds super messy and loud.”

“It was a sound-proof room, Ouma-kun!” Saihara wet his lips, placing a shaky hand on Ouma’s leg. He leaned in closer. Was he… panting? “But that’s not even the best part. His execution was torturous. Do you know what a lobotomy is?”  
“Y-yeah…” Ouma looked into the other boy’s eyes. They were foggy while his lips were glossy, cheeks reddened. It was disturbing how kissable he looked. Ouma didn’t even want to try to understand why the sight stirred something in him. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach along with heat rushing to his face.

“Ouma-kun…” Saihara’s hand creeped up to his thigh, and Ouma drew in a soft breath.

Some other boys ran past them, and Saihara swiftly snatched his hand away. Ouma just blinked at him. The bell rung.

Saihara quickly stood up, packing away his lunchbox. His head was turned away from the smaller boy. “W-we should go to gym…”

Ouma got up from the bench and threw away his trash. “Yeah…”

In the locker room, it was even more difficult not to stare at Saihara. Ouma tried his best though, not wanting to seem like a pervert. But… what Saihara just did…

Their eyes met a few times as they got changed, and he could’ve sworn he saw Saihara’s eyes linger on him for a moment. They didn’t address what had happened.

They watched Momota play dodgeball as they sat huddled in the corner. He was pretty violent about it, laughing when someone got hit particularly hard with a ball. It made Ouma snicker a little as well. He was absolutely demolishing the other team on his own.

He approached the two boys once the lesson was finished, glaring down at them. “Hey, come help us put equipment away.”

Ouma stared up at him with round eyes before swiftly standing up. Saihara stood up too, eyes glued to the floor.

“You, c’mere.” He gestured with his finger for Ouma to follow him, leaving Saihara behind.

They ended up pushing a cart that was loaded with gym equipment. It was a struggle for Ouma. Momota was doing all of the work, he definitely didn’t need any help.

Momota chuckled as he watched Ouma push, his hands shaking with the weight of the cart. “Damn… you’re a real pussy, huh?”

Ouma groaned as he shoved harder, breaking into a sweat. “Y-yeah…”

“Heh… not even gonna fight me on that?”

“You’re not lying…”

“You’re just afraid of gettin’ your ass beat. What kind of a man lets someone talk to them like that?”

“Probably a pussy… right?”

“Don’t be a smartass. You can get fucked up for that as well.” Momota pushed the cart the rest of the way himself, dragging it into the storage room once he reached it.

Ouma watched as he moved it with ease. “Right…”

“I’d kinda feel bad, though. Clearly, you’ve got some fuckin’ issues.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah…?”

“Yeah. I mean, you hang with that Saihara kid.”

“What’s wrong with Saihara-chan?”

Momota grimaced. “…Saihara-chan? Jesus Christ…”

“Huh…?” The smaller boy tilted his head innocently.

Momota looked him up and down, an eyebrow cocked. “So, you’re just committed to this… cutesy act, right?”

He gave a small pout. “It’s not an act, Momota-chan.”

“Whatever. It’s gonna get you beat up.”

“By you?”

“Nah, I don’t go for easy targets.”

They held each other’s gaze. “Could’ve fooled me. How many kids did you knock out today?”

Momota shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “But you’re like… too easy.”

“Well… thanks, I guess?”

“Yeah.”

The two stood next to each other for a while, and Ouma couldn’t help but gaze up at Momota. The way the taller boy glared at him with a slight snarl on his face sent shivers down his spine. He gave a cute smile to Momota, who rolled his eyes.

“Go take a shower, pansy.”

“Momota-chan is mean…”

“Yeah, he is. Fuck off.” 

Ouma left Momota’s side to meet up with Saihara, who narrowed his eyes at him. He decided to ignore it as they went to take a shower.

At the end of the day, Ouma began walking home. He was stopped when Saihara grabbed his arm. He whipped around to face the taller boy.

Saihara bit his lip before he stuttered, “U-umm… I wanted to invite you to my house…”

“Oh… sure.” It couldn’t hurt to have an acquaintance, a distraction. Especially one as hot as Saihara.

“M-my uncle isn’t home during school hours… so…”

“…Is he strict?”

“No… just… we’ll have more freedom, you know?”

Ouma smirked. “More freedom to watch Saihara-chan’s murder show?”

He gave a wry laugh. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. “So… tomorrow… we can skip class…”

“Sure thing.”

They said their goodbyes, and Ouma made his way home. Once he got inside the house, he walked into the kitchen and began unpacking the groceries he’d bought that morning. As he put them away, he heard soft footsteps. 

“Kokichi.” He turned to face his mother. He had to look at her pale face, her lavender eyes. Her dark hair. He hated how much he resembled his mother. Every weakness he saw in her, it was reflected in himself.

“Hey…”

She glared at him, chapped lips pursed and arms folded. “Did you steal money from me again?”

He didn’t answer that. Instead, he ran past her and upstairs before barricading his room again. He heard her storm up the stairs, then pound on the door as he flinched behind it. She was yelling obscenities that he didn’t even know how to process anymore. His eyes welled up with tears as he fell into his bed, covering himself with the blankets as he squeezed his eyes shut. He curled into himself for what felt like an hour before falling into a dreamless sleep to the sound of screaming.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pregame fic that is based on my own personal headcanons for how I like to think the characters were before v3. Of course, I don't expect everyone to agree with how I portray these characters, however I hope you enjoy this fic regardless! Comments are appreciated!


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